


bombshell

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29657187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Whoever had put Isabelle Hartley in charge of shopping for a dress had been a goddamn fool. (Whoever had put Bobbi Morseinthat dress definitely wasn't though.)
Relationships: Isabelle Hartley/Bobbi Morse
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	bombshell

Whoever had put Isabelle Hartley in charge of shopping for a dress had been a goddamn fool. Sure, she was a woman, but she was not a dress sort of woman. There were plenty of male agents who undoubtedly would’ve been more successful in finding a dress that would, as the mission brief said, “catch eyes”. If anything, the male agents would’ve been better at figuring out what sort of dress would pull the attention of every man in the room. That was the point of having a pretty young agent in a dress: a _distraction_.

Izzy loathed it. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t exactly known for being light on the misogyny - Brock Rumlow alone made sure of that - but making her complicit by picking a dress a young woman would have to prance around in all night? It was shameful.

She had done it, of course. Anything for the mission. She’d taken care to at least pick a dress that was movable. A high slit up the thigh could catch the attention of a man who had a thing for legs, but it could also provide easy movement if a fight were to break out. She also hadn’t been stupid enough to pick a strapless dress. Nothing could convince her the extra distraction of _collarbones_ would be worth making another agent worried her tits would spill out of her dress if a fight broke out.

(Not that she was knocking anyone who had a thing for collarbones. The good Lord knew Izzy had her own proclivities others would struggle to explain.)

No one had thought to tell Izzy she was also _going_ on the mission for which she had picked the dress. Thankfully she was in a much more practical three-piece suit. The higher-ups had probably taken one look at her and realized no one would ever believe she’d wear a dress voluntarily. She was a damn good agent, but Izzy couldn’t do much to hide the way her bearings screamed _lesbian_. Most of the time it wasn’t worth hiding, anyways. Straight men seemed to take Izzy as a challenge, because apparently she wasn’t the scary type of lesbian. She was working on that.

Either way, Izzy ended up standing at a bar with a drink in her hand when _the dress_ made its appearance.

On the body of one Bobbi Morse.

And holy shit, Izzy had done her job well, because the moment Bobbi came walking through the door, every eye in the room was on her, Izzy’s included. The ruby red dress, the spill of Bobbi’s dyed-brunette curls, her wide blue eyes blinking in the bright lights of the ballroom… she looked like she had stepped out of a dream, and not a PG one.

It wasn’t like Izzy had never _noticed_ Bobbi before. She was hard not to notice, for anyone who was even the slightest bit into women. She was tall, muscular, quick-witted (her sharp tongue had been part of the reason Izzy had given her the affectionate nickname _Barb_ ), and just… amazing. 

Even if Izzy had noticed Bobbi before, but until that very moment, she hadn’t let herself do anything more than notice. Now her brain was running away from her, flashing several lascivious images behind her eyelids while Izzy focused on not accidentally shattering the glass she was holding. 

“Damn,” the man next to Izzy at the bar murmured.

Iz bit back an unkind retort; it wasn’t like she could get mad at someone else for ogling when she was doing the exact same thing.

It didn’t matter if hse or the man at the bar had eyes on Bobbi, though. Bobbi was being a good agent (unlike Izzy) and going for her mark. It wasn’t hard, considering he was also under Bobbi’s spell and all she had to do was strut up to him with a winning smile on her face.

Izzy shook her head, trying to snap out of the trance that had overtaken her. She was supposed to be Bobbi’s backup, and if she was just sitting around thinking about how hot the other agent was, she wasn’t doing her job. Izzy downed the rest of her drink and found an excuse to move closer to Bobbi and the mark, stopping for a plate of hors d'oeuvres so no one would be alarmed by her beeline.

Bobbi was flirting with him, her fingers tracing down the center of his tie as she teased him about something. Izzy couldn’t read their lips from her position, but she recognized the coquettish look on Bobbi’s face and the way her head dropped back when she laughed. She wasn’t having a good time, but she was doing a remarkable job faking it.

The flirtation continued, culminating in the man leaning forward and whispering something in Bobbi’s ear. She giggled, nodded, and the pair headed for the exit. Izzy counted to ten before slipping out after them. The hallway she ducked into was long and empty, and Iz forced herself not to run. Bobbi could handle herself and they’d both be worse off if Izzy aroused suspicion by going bolting down hallways she wasn’t supposed to be in in the first place.

When she arrived at the back alley Bobbi and the mark had slipped out to, he was already on the ground, out cold. Bobbi was bent over him, giving a _fantastic_ view of her cleavage, and Izzy’s brain short-circuited. She was a professional, but she was also gay as all hell, and after the night she’d had being forced to watch Bobbi in that red dress it was a minor miracle she wasn’t doing anything more than ogling.

“Good, you’re here,” Bobbi said, apparently oblivious to Izzy’s staring. She tossed the thumb drive the man had on him and Izzy, miraculously, managed to catch it. 

“You already called for extraction?” Izzy confirmed, tucking the drive into her suit pocket. The one downside of the dress she’d bought for Bobbi - it didn’t have any pockets. 

Bobbi nodded. “They’re meeting us out front in five.”

“Good.” Any longer in the alley and Izzy might’ve started getting ideas - ideas she didn’t need to have about her coworker, even if she was a bombshell.

“So,” Bobbi said, smoothing down her ruffled hair. “You’re the one who picked the dress.”

Izzy refused to blush. “They didn’t tell me who was going to be wearing it. I would’ve toned it down a bit if i knew it was you.”

Bobbi cocked an eyebrow. “Would you have?”

Izzy swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you liked wearing dresses.”

“They have their uses.” Bobbi grinned. “Like making men salivate.”

_Not just men._

“True,” Bobbi said. Shit. Izzy hadn’t realized she’d said that bit out loud.

“Were you salivating, Hartley?” Bobbi asked, gesturing for Izzy to follow her around the outside of the building to their extraction point.

“You tell me, Morse.”

“What I’m trying to say is, would you like to come home with me after we debrief?” Bobbi asked bluntly. “Since you did such a good job picking the dress, I think you should be the one to take it off.”

Izzy blinked several times, wondering if she had fallen asleep at the bar and been transported into some sort of dream where her younger, hotter friend suddenly wanted to bang her. 

“Oh, _come on_ , Iz.” Bobbi stopped in her tracks and bent down to step out of her heels. “I’m bi, you’re gay, we both need to unwind. It doesn’t need to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“I have a policy not to sleep with my coworkers.”

Bobbi snorted. “You know I don’t.” 

Izzy inclined her head. Bobbi didn’t hop into bed with just anyone, but she had been known to sleep with her coworkers, if suitably persuaded.

“Shame,” Bobbi sighed, beginning to walk again. 

“I didn’t say _no_ ,” Izzy said as she began to follow again.

“What do I have to do to take not-no to yes?” Bobbi rounded the corner and gestured with her heels to where their getaway car was parked.

“Take me to dinner first.”

Bobbi threw a smile over her shoulder. “Deal.”


End file.
